


The Gift that Keeps on Giving

by TenRoseForeverandever



Series: These Two Hearts [24]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Baby Fic, F/M, Kid Fic, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Pete's World, Valentine's Day Fluff, sexual innuendo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-24 23:21:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13821603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TenRoseForeverandever/pseuds/TenRoseForeverandever
Summary: He would have ignored it altogether, if he could have, and just gone about business as usual, but when he had scoffed about the materialism and naff decorations and the overall worthlessness of Valentine’s Day, he couldn’t help notice Rose’s laugh had sounded a bit hollow, and she had kept her head downturned, not meeting his eyes.





	The Gift that Keeps on Giving

**Author's Note:**

> Happy belated Valentine’s Day! I thought I should get this posted before February ended! LOL
> 
> I found this article [[Valentine’s Card ](https://ca.style.yahoo.com/take-lesson-love-77-year-old-whos-sent-wife-valentines-day-card-39-years-120952772.html) ] on Yahoo News and immediately thought it would make the basis for a great Tentoo x Rose fic or a Doctor x Rose AU. Originally, I didn’t want to write it myself (I have a number of WIPs that really need my attention) and submitted it to _DoctorRosePrompts_ on Tumblr. But… certain fangirl friends convinced me to take it on myself. I have to admit, it wasn’t that difficult to convince me. It fits so perfectly with my These Two Hearts series, how could I resist?
> 
> Thanks, as always, to my brilliant betas who make everything so much better, and are always around to talk things through. Rose_Nebula and mrsbertucci, I love you!
> 
> Hope you enjoy.

* * *

Valentine’s Day was one of the scourges of humanity as far as the Doctor was concerned. Yet another rubbish excuse to over-commercialize an insignificant holiday, pressuring poor, hapless souls into buying tacky, pointless gifts for their significant others; another motive to drive the prices of flowers and chocolate to exorbitant levels, taking advantage of the lovesick hearts of hopeless romantics.

And all for what?

So humans could spend all their hard-earned money to say those three most important words? Surely something so significant should never, _ever_ be wrapped up in the capitalistic trappings of a single day.

And it wasn’t _just_ a single day, was it? The human halfwits fell for the scam on an annual basis. He just wanted to shake them sometimes, with their dozens of roses and glittery hearts and artery-clogging confections. All they really needed to do was show their better halves how they felt, _every single day_ , with hugs and kisses and heartfelt declarations.

Honestly. Three _tiiiny_ words. It was so simple.

And yet it wasn’t.

He of all people knew how not-simple it truly was. Those three momentous words had once tied his tongue in knots, making him fall back on the justifications of “she knows” and “does it need saying?”

Yes, of course she knew, and no, it didn’t really _need_ saying. But that was just the point, wasn’t it? Saying it just because it would make her happy; because it would reassure her when she felt vulnerable, when he had behaved like a prat; because it would show her he believed in her, and would always be there for her, and treasure her forever… longer than that, if it were up to him.

He would have ignored Valentine’s Day altogether, if he could have, and just gone about business as usual, giving Rose goodbye kisses and whispered words of devotion and orgasms beyond compare, the same as he did every day. In the past, the two of them had always had a good laugh about the day, more often than not mocking the tawdry sentiments inscribed on conversation hearts even as they popped them into their mouths, or joking irreverently about the insipid shallowness of the holiday.

Just that morning, when he noticed it was February 14th, before they headed off to work, he had scoffed about the materialism and naff decorations and the overall worthlessness of Valentine’s Day. And she had chuckled along with him.

But he couldn’t help notice her laugh had sounded a bit hollow, and she had kept her head downturned, not meeting his eyes.

So he had taken an early lunch and spent tedious hours in long lines of humanity (like it or not, he was one of them now) to purchase the very best chocolates Pete’s World had to offer, two dozen long-stem roses, and the makings of what he was certain would be the very best meal that had ever passed Rose’s gorgeous lips.

After all, he supposed, it _was_ their first Valentine’s Day as a married couple. Weeell… married by human standards. They had been bonded in the most profound way possible for years now, since before she had first been lost to this parallel existence, back when he had been nothing more than a handy hand in a jar.

But the point was, clearly Rose _was_ human (an especially exceptional one!) and just as having a proper human wedding had suddenly become important to her a year ago, so other human traditions, like Valentine’s day had begun to hold more meaning for her too. And if celebrating them with her would ease any lingering anxiety in her heart over how content he was in this brilliant, new life with her by his side, then standing in a few lines to buy her tokens of his affection was a small price to pay.

Gifts and groceries in hand, he rushed home to prepare their meal (chicken stroganoff) and chill a bottle of white wine, set their little table for two (complete with the vase of roses), make the bed up with fresh sheets and sprinkle rose petals over the top.

He planned to keep the meal warm in the slow cooker while he rushed back to work so he and Rose could drive home together. The idea was to surprise her. It wasn’t exactly a foolproof plan ( _when did his plans ever work out?_ ) but he had enlisted Donna to ensure Rose got no wind of him leaving work for the day. This universe’s Donna Noble was the chief administrative assistant at Torchwood and a dear friend to both the Doctor and Rose. She was every bit as brash and brilliant as the Donna Noble in the prime universe, so he was fairly certain, with her on board, the surprise would be a resounding success… as long as _he_ didn’t muck it up.

Halfway back to Torchwood, and already cutting the timing very close, he realized he’d forgotten to buy Rose a card. She probably wouldn’t care. She had never been one for poetry and sentimental drivel, but then again, she had never cared about Valentine’s Day before either…

He pulled over and rushed into the first stationary shop he spotted. The card shelves were devastated, hardly a Valentine left, and tattered spare envelopes were strewn over the floor. _Blimey_. He ran a hand through his hair, scanning the shelves with a desperate eye. He was reaching for a rather pretty card he’d spotted, fallen on its side in the rack, when another bloke dove in and snatched it from under the Doctor’s outstretched fingers.

“Oi!”

“Sorry, mate! She’ll kill me if I don’t at least have a card!” the bloke called over his shoulder as he rushed to the checkout counter.

“Fuck!” Weeell, the Doctor reasoned, the bloke’s life _was_ in danger. _His_ probably wasn’t: he’d gone to the effort of making a meal and buying sweets and flowers. If he didn’t have a card, the universe wouldn’t implode or anything. As he turned to leave, a little white corner sticking out from behind a red envelope caught his eye.

_Bonanza! Ha!_

He looked at the card in his hand. It wasn’t especially romantic, except in a cute kind of way. But it was perfect for him and Rose, he thought. After all, on the front were two little cartoon bananas… spooning! _Bananas! What could be better?_ Little red hearts were dotted over the white background, and the caption, written in bright swirly script, read: _“I’m bananas over you!”_

Ten minutes later, he was offering a cheeky wink to Donna as he rushed past the Torchwood Administration reception desk to get to his office where he planned to wait for Rose.

“Oi, Toothpick Man,” Donna shouted, “you’re cuttin’ it close!  Security just alerted me, Rose is on her way up to meet you. You must just have missed each other at the lift.”

“Oh, Donna, I am a master of timing!” he boasted. “This way I don’t even have to take off my coat. I’ll look like I’m all ready to go!”

Seconds later, the lift doors whooshed open and Rose stepped out catching sight of the Doctor standing by his office door. “Someone’s eager to get home,” she commented, grinning at him.

She quirked an eyebrow at Donna. “Hey there. Why are you still here? You must have something special planned for tonight? You’re still seein’ that lawyer bloke, Nathan, from Patents, yeah?”

“Oooh, yeah, he’s takin’ me to this really swish French bistro. But it’s a bit of a later reservation, so I’ll have loads of time to make myself presentable. I’m just heading out now, myself. What about you? You and that beanpole of yours have a romantic evening ahead of you?”

The Doctor’s ears perked up at the turn in the conversation, and he walked over to join the two women. To his despair, Rose visibly sagged. Well, _that_ would be fixed just as soon as they got home, he’d see to that.

“Nah, nothin’ special. We don’t really do Valentine’s Day,” Rose sighed.

The Doctor wrapped his arms around Rose from behind. “I’d like to think I make every day special for you, love.”

She spun around in his arms and she patted the lapel of his coat, directly over his single heart. “You _do_ , Doctor.” She offered him a sincere little smile, tinged with sadness, and rose to her toes to press a sweet kiss to his lips.

He tightened his hold on her and began to deepen the kiss when Donna piped up, “Oi, Professor Gadget! I don’t need to see you cleaning her tonsils. I experience enough trauma in this line of work without having to witness that!”

“We’re off,” Rose laughed lightly. “C’mon, you!” She tugged at the Doctor’s hand, dragging him toward the lifts. “See ya tomorrow, Donna.” She waved to their friend as they stepped in and the doors closed behind them.

The entire drive home, Rose was quiet, staring out the passenger side window. The Doctor’s heart ached for her and he practically squirmed in anticipation, hoping his Valentine’s surprise would brighten her spirits, hoping he hadn’t botched it up completely by being so secretive.

A few minutes later, she trudged up the stairs to the flat, and he slipped ahead of her to open the door for her. He thrust it open, ushering her in, and watched in delight as her eyes widened, taking in the vase of roses, the table linens, and good cutlery and dishes. Her nostrils flared in the most endearing way as she took in the aroma of their meal. She slowly turned around to meet his gaze, a look of pure astonishment on her face.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Rose Tyler!” He beamed at her.

“Doctor… you…” she stammered, “you… Oh, Doctor!” She flung her arms around his neck, burrowing her nose into his shoulder, and he squeezed her tight.

“Rose Tyler,” he pulled away from the embrace to look her in the eye, “will you be my Valentine?”

“Ya plum. You did all this for me?”

“Yup! Only ever for you. I even bought some of those conversation hearts. We can have a bit of a laugh over them later! But first, love, why don’t you go freshen up and I’ll dish up supper.”

\--ooOoo--

Hours later, lying in bed, fully sated, he propped himself up on an elbow beside Rose, idly twirling a finger around one of her nipples.

She looked up at him, her eyes heavy and dreamy. “I love you.”

“And I love you…” He just wanted to spoon himself around her and hold her… He sat bolt upright. How had it slipped his mind? _Spooning!_ “I nearly forgot! The card. I bought you a card! Just wait right there. Don’t wander off, now!” Completely starkers, he bolted out of bed and rushed through to the front door where he had left his coat on the coat stand. Rummaging in the pockets he found the card, tucked safely in its envelope and returned to the bedroom.

“Here you go, love.” Climbing back into bed, he thrust the card at her. “It’s not much… but I think it may just have been the last card in London! I practically had to fight off hordes of other blokes barehanded to get this card!”

“Hordes of them, eh?” Rose chuckled, smiling her tongue-tipped smile, as she shuffled into a sitting position, propping her pillow behind her and taking the card from his fingers.

“You have no idea! It was a jungle out there, today!”

She opened the envelope, and laughed as she looked at the card. “The last card in London, and it just happened to have bananas on it! You’re bananas over me, are ya?”

“Of course I am, Rose Tyler! Completely bananas!”

“You got that right!” She shook her head, eyes sparkling with mirth, and opened the card. “Oh, Doctor…” Inside he had written: _I love you a bunch. Please be my Valentine forever._ Her eyes brimmed with tears and setting the card aside, she pushed him onto his back and straddled his hips. She leaned forward to plant a messy kiss on his lips.

Maybe he wasn’t fully sated, after all, he thought as he felt the heat of renewed arousal course through him.

“Speaking of bananas…” Rose smirked seductively at him, as she took him in hand, “this one is my very favourite of the whole bunch.”

Valentine’s Day, it turned out, wasn’t as much the scourge of humanity as he had previously considered. In fact, he thought, as Rose sank down on his _banana_ , it was a bloody brilliant excuse for a holiday!

\--ooOoo--

A few months later, they found the little blue house that was to become their home, and most of their spare time that year was spent renovating it, making it habitable. They didn’t actually move in until the end of January the following year, and everything was all topsy-turvy with bits of furniture here and there and several parts of the house still needing a great deal of attention.

The Doctor had been spending all of his time doing electrical work and plumbing and adding finishing touches to their new house, instead of accompanying Rose into Torchwood. As a result, he completely forgot about Valentine’s Day that year… that was until Rose walked through the front door after work one day with an expectant smile on her face, a smile that fell when he greeted her, covered in grime and grease.

“What’s the matter, love? I can’t look _that_ bad, and I swear I haven’t exploded anything today… not even the−”

“Nothing. Nothing’s the matter.” But, despite her words, she sighed and wouldn’t meet his eyes, and rushed off to the en suite in their bedroom, locking the door behind her. He heard the shower running, and tempted as he was to join her, he reckoned she probably wanted a bit of space. Whatever was bothering her, he was sure he could wheedle it out of her over supper.

Supper was another matter, entirely. There was no food in, as the fridge and other kitchen appliances hadn’t yet arrived, so he decided to call _Romano’s_ to order out for pizza. Again.

He ordered all of Rose’s favourite toppings, and was perplexed when Mrs. Romano asked, “So, Doctor Noble, would you prefer our regular large pizza or would you like to celebrate with today’s special heart-shaped pizza, for an extra three quid?”

“Heart-shaped? Why would I want my pizza heart-shaped?”

“’S Valentine’s Day, caro. Or had you forgotten? Doctor Noble, are you there?”

What? _What? WHAT?_ “Yeah, yeah, I’m here. Sorry, so sorry. Yeah, suppose I better get that heart-shaped one, please, Mrs. Romano.”

“You know what? For you, caro,” the sound of pity in her voice made him die a little inside, “it’s on the house. Frankie will bring it ‘round in about half-an-hour, yeah.”

“Molto bene. Grazie,” he thanked her, trying his best to sound enthusiastic, and failing spectacularly.

As he hung up, he began to panic: he had no flowers or chocolates, nothing to offer his precious girl for Valentine’s Day… weeell, except now he had a bloody, heart-shaped pizza. He’d gone and bollocksed everything up! He’d known how much Valentine’s Day had come to mean to her and he’d forgotten. Him! The man with the eidetic memory!

Well, there was no point worrying about things he couldn’t change. The TARDIS was still just an infant coral, and even if he’d had a functional time machine at his disposal, he couldn’t have crossed his own timeline. It was better to focus on what he _could_ work with. After all, that was his specialty, saving the day at the last possible second. Saving Valentine’s Day for one Rose Tyler should be a snap!

He had rummaged through moving boxes, in search of the good table cloth. The little, two-person table looked a bit lost in the large dining area, even with the elegant white linens draped over it, but it would have to do. In his search for the good china (a failure!), he had discovered last year’s Valentine’s card, tucked in amongst some of Rose’s books. He smiled at the two bananas on the front, reading his message from the previous year, _I love you a bunch,_ and bemoaning all the lost opportunities for further banana-related humour.

A grin broke through the slightly panicked expression on his face. Why should the opportunities be lost? He had the card, a perfectly brilliant Valentine’s card. Why could he not just write another message for this year? He’d be recycling, doing good by the environment, and as a bonus, downplaying the commercialization of the day he so despised.

He carefully dated the first message, and then found a little spot to write the current year’s sentiment: _“I slipped up. Please forgive me, Valentine, love, the Doctor.”_ He then drew a little stick figure slipping on a banana peel. Proudly, he placed the card on the table and admired his handiwork.

Rose’s soft hand on his shoulder startled him. “What’s all this, Doctor?”

He swung around, snatching up her hands. “Oh, I’m sorry, Rose, so sorry. I completely forgot. We’ve been so busy moving and renovating… I never bothered with the date. Weeell, of course I _knew_ the date (my time sense still works… mostly) but the significance of it… Blimey, Rose, you looked so disappointed when you came in, and−”

“Doctor, I’m the one who should be apologizin’. I wasn’t _tryin’_ to be such a cow. I didn’t really expect, well… anything. I know how hard you’ve been workin’, and I know we’ve got nothin’ in the kitchen. And, now, look at you, doin’ all this for me, for us.” She gestured to the table. “I love you so much, my lovely Doctor.” She stroked her fingers over the scruff on his cheek. “The truth is, I… well, I kinda got _you_ something, but when I saw you had forgotten, I didn’t want you to feel bad.”

“You got me something, did ya?” He waggled his eyebrows at her.

She playfully smacked his arm. “Stop! Lemme get it.” She rushed upstairs to their bedroom, returning a few moments later. “Here you go. Happy Valentine’s Day, Doctor.” She held out a box, neatly tied up with heart-themed wrapping paper and a bright red bow.

He tore through the wrapping with gusto. There was nothing so exciting as opening a surprise gift and discovering what was hidden inside. He popped the lid off the box to reveal a tray of chocolates. But these were not just any chocolates; these were chocolates created especially for him. There were tiny chocolate TARDISes, sonic screwdrivers, K-9s, and even replicas of his old car, Bessie.

“I... erm…” Rose picked at her fingers “…asked the techs down in the 3D printing lab if they could help me design the moulds. They were so patient with me. I tried to get everything just right, but…”

He set the chocolates aside so he could crush her against him, pressing kisses to her golden hair, his heart full to overflowing with love. “They’re perfect!”

“I did my best, but just to be certain you’d _really_ like them, I filled them with banana cream…” She offered him one of her dazzling smiles, the tip of her tongue perched between her teeth.

“Oh, now you’ve done it!” He reached for one of the screwdrivers, popping it into his mouth. He groaned at the flavours bursting over his taste buds. “That… that, Rose Tyler, is bloody brilliant!”

“Oi! You’ll spoil your supper! There is supper, isn’t there? I assume, with the table and all…”

“Oh, yes! The heart-shaped pizza is on its way, courtesy Mrs. Romano−”

“Wait!” She laughed, pulling back to gaze up at him. “Romano’s makes heart-shaped pizzas for Valentine’s Day?”

“Apparently so.”

“Well, we better have some good china to eat it on, yeah?”

“My thoughts exactly! See, Rose Tyler, this is why we’re so good together. Great minds and all that! I just couldn’t find it anywhere!”

She pecked his cheek. “Good thing, then, _this_ great mind happens to know exactly where the good china is. I wrapped it in some of our clothes so it wouldn’t get broken in transit.”

“Oh, that’s brilliant!”

The doorbell rang, signalling the pizza’s arrival. “Go on. You go get the pizza, and I’ll dig out the china.”

In the end, Mrs. Romano had pulled out all the stops for “her favourite new customers”. She had sent Frankie with not only the pizza, but also a bottle of wine, and a homemade tiramisu for dessert.

And as for the card, Rose loved the Doctor’s little stick figure, and the fact that he had thought to use the card a second time. “Oh, I love this card! Nothing could ever replace it.”

“I remember just how much you loved it last year…”He flashed her a shamelessly self-satisfied grin across the table. “In fact, my _banana_ remembers too. Is it still your favourite one of the bunch?”

She grinned, her tongue dampening her lips, and she leaned forward seductively. “Oh, yes, I love your banana! It tastes so good…”

Blimey! This Valentine’s Day was fast on its way to becoming an unforgettable celebration, and he rather suspected it would continue to hold its appeal (pun fully intended) for years to come, as long as he had Rose Tyler by his side to share it with him.

 --ooOoo--

The years came and went. Some years the Doctor remembered Valentine’s Day and some years he forgot. Some years, Rose forgot too. But they always remembered before the day was out and every year, the Doctor brought out the little card with the spooning bananas on the front and wrote another loving message to Rose. He used all of the banana-related humour he could think of including: _All I peel is love for you; they’ll never ever split us up;_ and _you’re the pick of the bunch._

But his favourite by far was the one he had written when they were fourteen years married. He had packed the children off to their grandparents’ house.  Then he had cooked Rose supper, wearing nothing but a frilly apron around his waist. It sported a red, polka-dotted heart over his… erm… banana, and his _very lovely bum_ (Rose’s words, not his!) was left exposed for Rose’s viewing pleasure. The note he wrote on the card that year read: _I noticed you checking out my pot-_ ass _-ium._

That had been years ago, and looking back on all of his old messages each year made them both cry tears of joy. He’d eventually run out of puns, and the sentiments written on the card in recent years were purely words of love for his precious girl, his beautiful Rose, words of wonder that she had stuck with him all this time, squeezed into the few spaces still left on the card to write.

This Valentine’s Day was to be a very special one, indeed. This year, after fifty years of marriage (fifty-one come May!) he and Rose were going to celebrate by spending time with their very newest little Valentine, their first great-grandchild, Anne. She was just three months old and had made her way into their youngest granddaughter’s life rather earlier than would have been ideal; at just newly eighteen, Noelle was still very young, herself. The father of the baby was not around, and Noelle had no desire for him to be.

But she had a date with some girlfriends for the evening, and with her parents, aunts, uncles, and cousins all travelling off-planet, she had turned to Rose and the Doctor to look after Anne. They had eagerly accepted the job. The Doctor was so eager, he paced the floor by the front door of the little blue house, impatiently awaiting the arrival of their tiny charge.

Rose walked into the room, speaking on her ear-piece: “Hope, love, it’s fine. We’re beyond thrilled to be looking after Anne.”

She rolled her eyes as she listened to Noelle’s mum’s response.

“Noelle needs to get out and have a life. She’s eighteen… When I was just a year older than her, I was off with your father savin’ civilizations throughout time and space… No, that’s not what I meant, but she has a good head on her shoulders… Yes, she _has_!... No! Don’t you dare come home. Not for this. Let the child have a little space. … Honestly, Hope, she knows to ring us if she needs anything. She’s a good girl, love. … Bye, sweetheart. … Yeah, I’ll call the minute she’s home. Bye.”

“Hope is so controlling. Reminds me a bit too much of Mum sometimes,” Rose huffed in exasperation as she came to join the Doctor. “You’ll wear a hole in the floor, pacin’ like that.”

“Nope! Gravylian Tronfotree wood, this floor is, Rose. Like iron! No holes here. I can pace as much as I like.”

“Well, you’re drivin’ me mental, you are! Stop!” The Doctor found himself pulled into a tight hug, as Rose rather effectively stopped him in his tracks. “I love you,” she murmured against his lips, “but you just saw Anne a couple of days ago at Mum’s; you remember that, yeah? Or is old age addling your big, ol’ brain?”

“’Course I remember! But every iota of time that passes, she changes and grows. They develop so rapidly at this age. I don’t want to miss a thing! Our great-granddaughter, Rose! Imagine that! Me with a great-granddaughter I can actually cuddle and teach important things to!"

The doorbell rang before Rose could respond, and the Doctor flung it wide to greet Noelle, who was juggling Anne and several large bags of baby things. “Blimey! I’d forgotten how much paraphernalia a baby comes with! Strange thing that, most bizarre, the fact that the number of things a child needs is inversely proportional to its age. I never quite understood…”

“Here, sweetheart,” Rose pushed past the Doctor to take some of the bags from Noelle, “lemme take some of that for you. Oi, Time Lump,” she nudged him in the ribs, “you might offer to help out…”

“Oi! I _am_ helping out.” He smirked as he nicked a squirmy Anne from her mother’s arms. “I’m just selective about _how_ I help. Isn’t that right, darling?” he cooed at the baby. He wandered into the living room, and sat down to marvel at the little life in his hands. She was bright-eyed and brilliant and flirted with him mercilessly. Perfect! “And later, when it gets properly dark, we’ll go out to see the stars. Won’t that be lovely, hmm? That old treehouse hasn’t had a soul in it for years, so it’s ours for the taking, how about that?”

“Thanks Granddad!” Noelle called from the door.

“Anytime, Noelli-bo-belli! And oooh... that’s something I will never, ever say again.”

Rose tsked at him, but Noelle didn’t seem to have noticed the unfortunate moniker he had given her. She was just looking wistfully back at Anne who was drooling happily all over the Doctor’s jumper.

“She’ll be fine, darling,” Rose cupped the girl’s cheek. “You go on. Have a lovely time, celebrating ‘Anti-Valentine’s’ with your mates.”

“Thanks Gran. Love you!”

“Bye-bye Mummy!” the Doctor put on a high-pitched baby voice, and waved Anne’s chubby little hand at Noelle, who laughed out loud. “Have fun! Oh, try one of those new fizzy drinks that turn your ears purple! They’re brilliant! But not the pear-flavoured ones. That… that is just, weeell… repulsive! Just say no to pears, love!”

“Will do, Granddad,” she giggled. “Bye!”

Three hours later, the Doctor watched Rose walking back and forth, rocking Anne to sleep. The sight filled him with nostalgia. His beautiful Rose: she might have been turning seventy-five years old on her birthday this year, but she was every bit as lovely now as she had been when she had first rocked Hope in her arms all those years ago.

The wee bundle was finally drifting off, having struggled valiantly to stay awake. She had had a busy time of it. She had gone stargazing with the Doctor and had been almost as enthusiastic about looking at the stars as she had been about teething on the Doctor’s old Janis Joplin coat (a Valentine’s gift from Rose from many years ago… one of their early trips on their TARDIS.) She had laughed and gurgled and played peek-a-boo for what seemed like hours on end, and had listened intently as the Doctor acted out all the animals in her bedtime story. The Doctor had given her a warm bath, and Rose had fed her from one of the bottles Noelle had left.

It seemed he and Rose had never spent one moment alone together the entire Valentine’s evening, but it had been perfect, and he wouldn’t have changed it for the world. It brought back fond memories of the early days of parenthood, which had sometimes been a struggle, but he and Rose had always fallen back on their love for one another to pull them through.

Rose was finally able to tuck Anne into her bassinette, and she flopped down on the sofa next to the Doctor. “Whew! I’m a bit out of practice, yeah.”

“You were perfect. She’s a stubborn one… just like her mum, and gran before her. And, no doubt, her great-gran too, if Jackie’s stories are to be believed.”

“Oi!” Rose chuckled, snuggling into him.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, love.” He kissed her forehead and pulled out the old card with the spooning bananas on the front. It was a bit dog-eared and his hand-written notes were crammed into every space available, but it still made Rose smile to see it. It truly was the gift that kept on giving.

“I’m afraid,” he warned, “this is the last time I’ll be able to write you a note on this card. It’s full.”

“Oh…”

“Do you want to read this year’s entry?”

“Will you read it to me? Then we can look over all the old ones!”

He nodded, and then spoke the heartfelt words. He remembered the days when it would have been impossible for him to express his feelings so freely, but those days were long past, trapped in another universe; a universe where a lonely Time Lord roamed, probably still claiming to despise domestics, and to whom Valentine’s day probably remained one of the scourges of humanity.

What a gift that lonely Doctor had given him, a treasure beyond reckoning, the one adventure he had never been able to allow himself to have: a life spent with Rose Tyler by his side, and children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren to hold to his heart. It was a life full of love; love that was celebrated every day of the year, but acknowledged in special ways once every year on Valentine’s Day.

“Rose Tyler…” He pulled her close and kissed the top of her head.

“Yes, Doctor?”

Those three tiny, momentous words: “I love you.”

* * *

 


End file.
